Broken Holidays
by cabbageoriley
Summary: Stiles has sworn that he does not want this thing living inside of him... But that all changes. Now, no one knows how much Stiles wants this baby until things might be too late.
1. Mother's Day

Mother's Day

Stiles had been steadfast from day one. No. He didn't want it. This thing growing inside of him was foreign… an alien… not his and would never be his.

Yes, he and Derek had made the choice to have sex. They didn't use protection, and that's how Stiles ended up like this. Three months pregnant and miserable- brushing his teeth after another round of morning sickness.

"What do you want for supper?" his dad asks from the kitchen.

"Nothing," Stiles mumbles as he shuffles back into his bedroom where he has been holed up all day long.

Aggravated, the Sheriff follows him into the room. "You have to eat something, Stiles. Toast. Crackers. Maybe a little soup."

"I said I don't want anything!" Stiles flops down on the bed. "Geeze, Dad. What don't you understand? I don't want anything."

The Sheriff pinches the bridge of his nose and takes a deep breath. He needs to stay calm. He doesn't want to yell at his kid again. "What can we do to help you, Stiles? I'm here to help you. Derek is here to help you."

"Derek can go and screw himself."

"Stiles."

"And you… you can rip this… this… THING out of me and get rid of it. Or, you can just shoot me. Literally, like just put the gun to me and pull. I've been in the same position far too many times to survive again."

"Stiles!" the father explodes. "How can you say such a thing?!"

"I feel like I'm in hell, Dad. Every day of my life sucks! I wake up. I vomit. I brush my teeth. I vomit. I get dressed. I vomit." Stiles points to his stomach. "I'm getting fat. I can see it now. My stomach is getting bigger even though I'm not eating anything. I'm actually losing weight, but my stomach is growing. How screwed up is that? This thing is using me. It's a parasite. It's feeding and thriving off of me while I'm slowly dying."

"I don't even know what to say to you! Getting pregnant is a miracle and a blessing for any woman…"

"I'm not a woman," Stiles interrupts.

"… Let alone for you… It's amazing that you were able to conceive. Derek is so excited. He wants this baby so badly."

"Then he can have it."

"Stiles."

Stiles jumps up off the bed. "No, he can have it. I'll carry this thing until it rips out of me, but then he can have it. I want nothing to do with it. I'll gladly thrust it into his arms at birth and look away. No, wait… I don't even want to touch it. Deaton or Melissa or whoever can catch it and cut it off and they can thrust it into his harms. I don't want to touch it. I don't want to see it. I don't want to hear it cry. I don't want anything to do with it."

The Sheriff stands tall and stately. "You're sure."

"Freakin' positive. I'll cut myself and give you a blood oath. I'll shout it from the rooftops. I don't want it."

"I'll deliver the message. I've asked how I can help you, and now I know how. I'll make sure nothing messes up your plan."

"Thank you!"

But then things change. The morning sickness slowly fades away, and Stiles can finally eat again. He is feeling better overall even though at five and a half months he knows he looks like a fat cow. He feels it. Like a gentle push to the side of his stomach. And then again… a little stronger. It stops him in his tracks. He puts his plate of eggs and chicken sausage and his glass of milk down on the counter. Stiles looks down. For the first time since finding out his 'condition' he gently places a hand to his stomach. The realization strikes him like a bolt of lightning. All those gassy feelings that seemed like a blind goldfish hitting into the sides of his glass bowl… that was… his baby.

"Woah." Soft chills run down his whole body. His chest feels fluttery instead of hollow and cracked like it was before. He feels… excited!

Forgetting his breakfast he walks into the living room where his dad was sitting when Stiles woke up this morning. He has a huge, beaming smile on his face for the first time in months as he says, "I felt the baby!"

…But his dad isn't there. Through the front window, he can see the Sheriff's car backing out of the driveway. He jogs to the door and walks out on the porch before he realizes he's not covering up the bump. "DAD!"

The car screeches to a halt and Noah runs up the drive to the door. He grabs Stiles by the shoulder and shoves him back inside.

"I felt the…"

"What are you doing?!"

"What?"

"Why were you outside looking like that?!" the Sheriff shouts and waves his arms. "Do you want the whole world to know that you're pregnant? Stiles, how can you be so stupid?"

Stiles is stunned. "Excuse me?"

"Just because you hate the baby and want nothing to do with it doesn't mean you can go out and… and expose the existence of werewolves to the whole world."

"I didn't mean to. I was hurrying to… I don't hate… I wanted to tell you that I felt…"

The Sheriff's portable screeches to life and the morning radio check begins. "Dang it, Stiles. Now I'm going to be late. The officers need to be able to look up to me as an example. How can they do that when they're there before I am?" He turns and storms out the door.

Stiles watches as the car flies down the street and turns around the corner out of sight. "But, I felt the baby."

It goes on like that. Stiles getting more and more excited about the growing baby inside him, and everyone too busy to listen to him. He knows he has messed up. He loathed the thing inside him for so long that no one would ever think he would change his mind now. Stiles and the fact that he's having a baby both seem completely forgotten… or ignored. He's being ignored. He retreats into himself. Stops trying to tell anyone. He sits in his room alone and holds his belly. Talking to the little being inside of him. He makes lists of names and items he needs for a nursery even though he knows he promised to give the baby to Derek to raise on his own. He orders a few books off of Amazon… and even a little wolf onesie that he takes and reverently places in his top drawer.

He breaks a little every day.

He's due late in the third week of May, and he cherishes all the time he has with his baby. He knows that on the baby's birth day, he will have to give it up.

The last week of April he feels like he fully breaks in two.

Stiles is lying in bed because he's long into his third trimester, and he's miserable. Retaining water, aches and pains, hips so sore there there's no sitting up straight thank you very much. His dad walks by eating a piece of cake.

"Hey! That's not on your diet!"

"Special days are free days, remember?"

Stiles chuckles because this feels good. Bantering back and forth with his dad… like old times. "Since when is April 28th a special day?"

The Sheriff stops in the doorway and looks down at his plate as he forks another bite. "Derek's baby shower was today."

Stiles' heart stops. "What? He had a… he gave himself a baby shower?"

"Of course not. I, as grandfather, and Scott and Allison, as Godparents, threw it for him."

Stiles is hurt… and furious. "And you didn't think to invite me?!"

"I thought you didn't want anything to do with the baby. Why would you want to go to a baby shower? It's not even your baby."

"I'm the one carrying it! That makes it… I… I should be counted as something! A special guest or…"

"How many times are biologicals invited to events after adoption? You gave the baby to Derek, it's not yours anymore. Everyone thought you would be happy to be exempt." Noah puts down his plate on the tv stand, and Stiles can see what remains of a squirrel painted into the icing. "I took pictures. Do you want to see pictures? I have some from the party. I even have some left of the nursery."

All the strength and anger flows from Stiles. He collapses back onto his pillows. All that is left inside him is brokenness and pain. "The nursery?" Stiles doesn't even realize he asks out loud. He is lost in his own thoughts… the thoughts of what this all means.

"Yes. Derek showed us the nursery as part of the gender reveal." The Sheriff is beginning to feel hopeful that maybe this could mean his son is changing his mind about the baby. "I have pictures." He reaches into his pocket for his phone. "I'll show you the pictures."

"No. I don't want to see them." Stiles is too broken to cry. "Why would I want to see pictures of things I'm not even a part of? I don't want pictures. I don't want to hear about it. I… I said I want nothing to do with this baby and that's what you've done until now. Don't… don't change it now. I just want this to be over. I want this to be done so I can… So I can forget this ever happened."

Continuing to discuss this and truly communicate feelings could solve everything, but both men feel so broken inside that they remain quiet. So many conversations left unsaid and so many misunderstandings stand between them.

The Sheriff picks up his cake and leaves the room. Stiles turns to his side, hides his face from the world and cries.

Stiles knows his time with his child is limited, but he knows there is still some time left. Until there isn't. He wakes up to excruciating pain on May 14th. He tries to tell himself everything is okay. There's nothing wrong. He still has another week left! This isn't labor. No. This is just… OW! Labor. This is labor.

The Sheriff hears moaning and cautiously knocks on the door frame. "Stiles, everything alright?"

"Yeah," Stiles gasps. "I'm okay. Go… go back to bed." Stiles is no sooner finished with his sentence than he moans so load the Sheriff runs to him.

"Stiles, kiddo, you're in labor."

"No, I have a week left." Stiles swats his dad's hands away.

"I'm calling Deaton."

It seems to Stiles as just a few minutes that there are suddenly one hundred people crowded into his room. His dad, and Deaton, and Derek, and Melissa. Okay, there's only four, but it seems too much. This is all happening so fast. He can't even stand to look at Derek. Derek is trying to comfort and encourage him, but all he can see is the greed that must be lying beneath the surface.

Deaton pulls back the sweat soaked covers. "Let me check you, Stiles. I need to see how far you are."

"No," Stiles fights. "I have a week left. Please, I don't want to be in labor."

What the others see as fear of pain is actually desperation. Desperation to keep his baby just a little while longer.

"Stiles, you're fully dilated. With the next contraction, you need to push."

"No, this is too fast," Stiles whimpers. "I won't push. Please, no. I don't want to be in labor. I don't want to push." As he shakes his head, sweat flies from his reddened face.

Melissa steps in. "Please, Stiles. If you don't push and the baby gets stuck, it could die inside of you. You don't want it to die. I know you don't want the baby, but Derek does. Let him have it. Please, you need to push."

So, he does.

An hour and a half later Stiles feels a gush and relief. He gasps at the feeling of the baby fully coming out. He is weak, but he reaches out to push the sanitary sheet aside so he can see his baby. Within seconds, the cord is cut, the baby is in Derek's arms, and he is walking away.

"Wait!" Stiles gulps. "Where's he going?"

Melissa squeezes Stiles' hand before hurrying after Derek. "We're just following the birth plan, honey."

"What birth plan?" Stiles turns his head to his dad as he feels Deaton begin to work with the afterbirth. "Dad, what birth plan?"

"You told me what you wanted. Derek and I sat down and made a plan. We did exactly what you asked."

"No… that was seven months ago. Please, Dad."

The Sheriff sadly kisses his son on the forehead and leaves to join his grandchild.

Stiles tries to lean forward and reach out, but Deaton stops him. "Stiles, I'm still working on you. You need to relax."

"But that's my baby!" Stiles shouts. Tears spring to his eyes and he begins to sob. "Please. I want to see my baby! They're…" Stiles gasps, "they're never going to let me see my baby."

"Stiles, calm down. They told me this is what you wanted. What you asked for." Deaton tries to do his work as fast as he can. Stiles' heartrate is spiking.

"I said that when I didn't know. I didn't know what it was like to feel the baby. I didn't know what it was like to be a mother! PLEASE!" Stiles begins to thrash around and try to get off the bed.

"Melissa! I need you in here!" Melissa runs into the room in an instant. "I need you to hold him down. He's hurting himself. He's ripping himself apart down here."

Melissa holds his arms down and leans across his chest. She gets her face as close to his face as she can so he can hear her over his sobs. "Stiles, honey, you need to calm down. Baby, what's wrong?"

"I want to see my baby!" Stiles cries and sobs. Tears, snot, and spit are covering Stiles and the bed. "Please, I just want to see my baby." Stiles screams, and the call is so primal that it sends chills through everyone in the house. The Sheriff runs into the room and immediately helps to hold Stiles down.

"Stiles, I'll get the baby for you, but you have to calm down. You can't see the baby like this. You would scare it to death. Breathe for me, Stiles." Melissa puts her hands on both sides of his face as Noah holds him fully down. "Breathe for me. There we go. Keep it up. Calm yourself down. I'll give you the baby when you're calm."

Stiles gulps and continues to sob, but his body slowly relaxes. When he is finally limp, Melissa runs to Derek. Deaton is finally able to sew Stiles up. The Sheriff hesitantly lets his child go.

"It will be okay, Stiles."

"I want my baby. I want to hold it. I should have been first. I'm his mother!"

"You're right, Stiles."

"I… I felt it kick and I changed my mind, but you didn't know. You didn't let me tell you. You forgot about me. You left me behind. You…," he sobs, "you took my baby, and I wanted it, I wanted to hold it!"

"It's a boy, Stiles. You have a son."

Stiles closes his eyes as he cries. "I have a son."

The Sheriff sees Derek come into the room, but he continues to soothe his son. "Guess what, Stiles. Today is Mother's Day. You had your baby boy on Mother's Day."

"I want my baby!"

"He's right here." Stiles opens his eyes to the sound of Derek's voice. He turns to him and weakly reaches out his arms.

When his son is in his arms, his tears turn to those of pure joy. He spends several minutes just looking at him, holding him, kissing him…

"What's his name?" Stiles' weak voice asks.

Derek kneels beside the bed. "He's our son, we can choose together."

Stiles' eyes light up, and he smiles. "In my top drawer… there is a list of names. We can choose."

Derek walks over to the drawer and opens it. He sees the writing filled notebook, but he picks up the onesie instead. He goes back to Stiles. "You really have wanted this baby?"

"More than anything."

Derek nods and smiles. He leans down and kisses his mate's head. "Me too."

End.


	2. Father's Day

Broken Holidays Series

Father's Day

Derek is not used to his house being full. Since the baby was born, Stiles has been staying at the Hale house. Since he wasn't too sure about staying there alone with Derek, Noah has been staying in another guest bedroom. Just two weeks ago, Derek was alone. Now there are four people living in the house, including baby Gabriel.

The Alpha finishes his late night bathroom visit and checks the entire house for security. He walks past the Sheriff's room- sleeping. He walks past Stiles' room- sleeping. Wait… He double checks the room. Stiles isn't there. A moment of panic strikes him in the stomach as he fears Stiles has left. What if he has gone and taken the baby with him? The fear has been with Derek since the beginning of the journey. The fear of not having his son. At first, he feared Stiles would abort the baby somehow. Then, he worried about miscarriage. He was nervous the whole way through. As each month crept by and he was closer to having his son, he feared even more that something would take him away. He was happy when Stiles decided to love the baby, but it still felt as if he was still so close to losing him. He doesn't want anything to come between him and his son.

Derek runs to the nursery. He is clammy as he swings open the door- fully expecting Gabe to be gone.

As the door opens, Stiles startles from his position on the floor. He shoots bolt upright and grabs onto the crib. His eyes are wide as saucers in the darkness.

"What are you doing?" Stiles gasps. He stands in front of the crib like a shield.

Derek goes almost limp with relief. "Nothing. I was just… checking to see if Gabe was alright."

"He's alright." Stiles stands tall and puffs his shoulders. "I can take care of him. I know how."

"I wasn't questioning that."

"Then, why wouldn't he be alright?"

Derek sighs. "I just wanted to check." He walks over to the crib, wanting to reach in and stroke his son's sleeping form.

But, Stiles stops him by grabbing his arm. "You can't have him. Stop."

Derek freezes. He can't have him. How many times a day does he hear that? And it breaks him every time. He's wanted this baby from day one. Why can't he have him?

"I'm his father, Stiles. I have the right to touch him." He reaches out again in determination.

"And I'm his mother! Stop it!"

At Stiles' shout, Gabriel startles and begins to bawl. Stiles reaches into the crib to console his baby, but Derek gets there first.

"NO! Give him back!" Stiles tries to smack Derek's hands.

"STILES! Stop, you'll hurt him." Derek pivots away and curls forward to protect the baby.

In seconds the Sheriff is in the room and gently ripping the babe from Derek's arms. "Both of you- out. Get out."

"Dad, he's trying to take him."

"I'm protecting him- he's hitting me."

"I said get out." The Sheriff walks them to the door and shuts it behind them. He hums and coos in order to calm the baby down.

Stiles and Derek stand awkwardly in the hallway. The young boy wrings his hands in worry.

Derek sighs and rubs his hand over his face. "Stiles, I wasn't trying to take him."

"You always try to take him. You can't have him. You can't… He's mine."

Derek turns to him with anger in all his features. "He's my son, too," he growls.

"But he's mine too." Stiles turns to face Derek as well. "You can't do everything. I need to make decisions. I need to be the one who…"

"How many times have you let me do ANYTHING, Stiles?" He holds up two fingers. "Gabriel is two weeks old. How many times have you let me hold him? How many, Stiles?"

Stiles hangs his head. "You hold him all the time."

"Five times. Stiles, in fifteen days I have held my son five times. I'm not trying to take him, Stiles. You are. You're trying to take him from me. You gave him to me. You said he was mine. And then you… I wanted him since the day we found out. You didn't want him."

"I did too! I did want him!" Stiles gets right in Derek's face. "I wanted him, and you wouldn't let me have him. You ignored me. You acted like I wasn't there! He was in me. And I wasn't even there. You were taking him from me before he was even born. You're always trying to take him!"

"I've never fed him. I've never changed his diaper." Derek slides down the wall and sits with his arms resting on his bent knees. "I WANT to change his diaper."

Stiles hesitates before sitting and mimicking his position. "If I let you change his diaper, you won't let me change his diapers. You won't let me be a part of his life."

"Why would you think that? I've never said anything about doing that." Derek looks over his right shoulder at Stiles.

"That's what you did." Stiles is crying. "That's what you did."

"When? Stiles… I've never been given the chance to do that."

"He's my baby," Stiles sobs. "You acted like I wasn't even there. You had a gender reveal and a baby shower. You made a birth plan. All without me. You wouldn't let me be a part of his life then. That's what you're trying to do now. You're trying to… You're trying to take him from me. I want to… I can't let you… You took over before and you're taking over now. You're always trying to take him."

Derek sits with his head rested against the wall. He thinks back to what they did when Stiles was still pregnant. "We weren't trying to take him. We were just trying to take care of him. You didn't want him. You wanted nothing to do with any of it."

"That was before." Stiles places his hand on the remnant of his belly. "Then, I felt him move." Stiles laughs, and it is hollow. "I was so excited. But nobody listened. I wanted to be involved but no one gave me a chance."

"I'm sorry, Stiles." Derek hangs his head. He shifts forward and kneels beside Stiles. He places his palm on the boy's cheek and tilts his head. "I'm so sorry, Stiles. If we had known. If we had known, we would have changed."

"I tried to tell you."

"But we didn't listen."

"You never listened."

Morning comes too early. The three men are absolutely exhausted. Stiles cradles his precious boy in his arms as his dad prepares the morning bottle. When it is ready, he sets it on the table in front of him.

"Good morning," Derek greets as he walks into the kitchen.

"Morning, son." The Sheriff claps him on the back.

Stiles is mute as he stares at the bottle.

Noah sits down in the empty seat beside his son. "Stiles? You okay?"

Stiles blinks and nods. He swallows hard and moves a shaky hand to the bottle. He slides it toward the Alpha. "Here," he whispers. "You can do it."

Derek's heart stops. "You're sure?"

The boy shakes his head up and down. He slowly stands and cautiously offers his son over. He keeps his hands underneath him as Derek nestles him in his arms. "Watch his head."

"I've got him, Stiles."

"But, you've only held him five times. You don't know how yet."

Derek chuckles at Stiles' joke… until he realizes it isn't a joke. Stiles looks absolutely petrified. Derek freezes. "No. You can do it. It's okay. You can feed him, Stiles."

Stiles' voice is barely above a forced whisper when he speaks. "You need to do it. You're his f-…" Stiles chokes on emotion. He blinks back tears and takes a breath before trying again. "You're his father. You need to feed him. I don't want to be the one who makes you feel as ignored and meaningless as I was made to feel." The men are then silent.

The young boy doesn't let his eyes drift away from his son even for a moment. Partially through the bottle, the Sheriff stands. "Stiles, why don't you go back to bed? We can handle things."

"No!" Stiles jerks his head toward his father. "He's my…"

"You're exhausted. You can get some rest while we take care of him for you."

"You don't need to take care of him. He's not yours. He's my responsibility."

"He is your responsibility, but be a responsible adult and admit when you need help."

Stiles turns back to look at Derek and his son. "I don't need help."

Derek looks up. "Stiles, if you won't go rest, at least sit down. You don't need to hover above us."

Stiles slowly moves back and sits down across the table from Derek. "Baby steps."

To Derek, Stiles' baby steps feel like an eternity, but at least they are making progress. He can hold him now- for short periods. He is on full time diaper duty because Stiles has realized how nice it is for someone else to do it. He has even been able to give him a bath- with direct Stiles-supervision of course. They've made more progress in the last four days than they had in the first two weeks.

One evening, Derek is holding Gabe after a bottle as Stiles watches television beside them on the couch. Stiles truly is exhausted, and it happens so fast. He falls asleep.

Derek watches as his son starts to doze as well. His breathing becomes deeper and his pudgy cheeks and soft lips seem to bob and quiver with every sweet breath. When he is sound asleep, Derek quietly stands.

When Stiles opens his eyes, he is alone. All alone. His heart stops. Whipping his head around the room, he sees no one. He runs as fast as his legs can move to the nursery.

Empty.

Stiles covers his mouth with his hand in fear. He steps back against the hallway railing and frantically thinks of what to do. His son is gone. Derek has taken him. Stiles runs to Derek's bedroom. He sees him- his son. Lying on the bed. His fully stocked diaper bag beside him. Derek is planning their escape. Stiles got here just in time.

He quietly sneaks into the bedroom. He doesn't see Derek, so he sweeps the handle of the diaper bag onto his shoulder. He grabs his son and runs.

Derek hears pounding down the hallway and steps out of his bathroom into his bedroom. Gabriel is gone, and he can see Stiles running at full speed toward the end of the hall. He panics. Stiles is stealing his son.

"Stiles!" The boy turns to look back, but begins to run faster. "Stiles, stop!" Derek sprints after them.

Stiles storms down the stairs and turns into the living room. He quietly shushes Gabe as he wakes and begins to whimper. Derek would have caught them, but his foot misses the last step, and he falls. When he recovers and gets to the door, he finds it barricaded with the chairs from the porch outside. Through the window he can see Stiles buckling Gabe into the Jeep's car seat.

In a moment of animalistic desperation, Derek rips the door from its hinges, charges down the driveway and tackles Stiles.

Stiles only has a split second to think between the time he hears the door shattering and when he feels his body being knocked to the ground. He screams. Derek is wolfed out on top of him. Stiles punches and kicks for his life and the life of his child. He doesn't stop until he feels Derek moving from on top of him.

He stands and is ready to fight again when he registers his Dad's voice. He looks behind his Jeep and sees him… with his gun drawn. He turns his head and sees Derek slumped and bleeding. He takes a moment to process what is happening and realizes his son's car seat is disconnected and sitting in the back of the police cruiser. He sighs in relief and starts to rush toward the Sheriff's car… until his dad points the gun at him. He freezes.

"Neither of you move!" The Sheriff's tone is all force and duty. "What in the name of all that is good and holy is going on here?!"

Both men answer at once. "He was trying to steal my son!"

Derek growls. "I wasn't trying to steal him. You were!"

"I fell asleep on the couch and you took it as your opportunity to take him from me!"

"He fell asleep in my arms. I was taking him to his crib."

Stiles laughs. "Then why was he in your bedroom? Why was his travel bag there?!"

"Because I needed to change his diaper. There were no diapers left in the nursery, so I got one from the diaper bag. I had just thrown it away when I heard you running off with him!"

Stiles hangs his head. Tears come to his eyes.

"You really thought I was taking him away from you?" Derek asks in awe. "After all the progress I thought we had made."

"What was I supposed to think?!"

"If you would have stayed and talked to me about it, you could have heard the truth. Instead of snatching him and running away like a maniac. What would have happened if I hadn't have caught you?! You would have just left? Gone forever?"

"I don't know." Stiles is crying again.

The Sheriff puts his gun away and steps toward the both of them. "You both need help." Stiles nods his head. He can't look anyone in the eye. "Though I am biased in the situation, I have authority as the Sheriff of Beacon County. I'm putting Gabriel in MY protective custody effective immediately. You can become his parents again when you are actually fit to be parents. I've been talking to Deaton. He found a therapist that knows about the supernatural. You'll be safe talking to her. You'll start immediately."

Though it is hard to hear, both boys know it is best. They can't go on this way. "I'll take care of Gabe until you're really ready. Don't worry, he'll be fine." The Sheriff secures the car seat, gets in his cruiser, and drives away.

The therapy helps… a lot. It isn't a miracle fix or an instant cure. It takes a lot of hard work. Everyone gets involved, the sheriff, Scott, the whole pack, because everyone had a part in creating this mess. Derek and Stiles talk. They talk about the hurt they felt. The fear. The secrets and the inability to communicate with anyone. Stiles cries… and Derek does too. It's a long process. Video chats and in person visits every day for a week and a half.

Finally, the therapist releases the two men. Not everything is fixed- not even close, but it is better. She feels that the biggest and deepest issues have healed well enough. At the end of the week, she tells them not to call her until the next week- unless they have a setback.

Derek and Stiles sit anxiously in the Hale house living room on Sunday morning. They jump and rush to the door when they hear Noah pull up in the driveway.

In unison they reach out and hug their sweet boy. It doesn't matter who is holding him more… which one is touching him the most… All that matters is that they are together. They have agreed to work on a family. No more mother or father… but mom and dad.

The Sheriff feels his shoulders relax just a bit as he sees them embrace. "Happy Father's Day."


	3. Independence Day

Fourth of July in America… Fireworks are supposed to be pretty, right? Well, these aren't. These are ugly and dangerous. They leave residue on everything surrounding them. The Sheriff is left standing on the front porch of the Hale house. Door slammed in his face. He has clearly overstayed his welcome.

He looks down at the bulging suitcase in his hands before looking over at the box of belongings beside his feet. Stiles can be heard singing "Independence Day" by Martina McBride at the top of his lungs inside the house. White doves and all that crap. He sighs and walks toward his cruiser.

It had all started about twenty minutes ago. The Sheriff had been helping Stiles and Derek prepare for their Fourth of July dinner. It was just going to be the three of them because Stiles still did not like too many people around the baby. Stiles and Derek were busy in the kitchen, so when Gabriel started crying, the Sheriff did the right thing and went to comfort him.

That's it. That's all that happened. And now he's sitting in his cruiser waiting at a red light getting ready to turn left and head back to his empty home. That's all that happened… Okay, that's not all that happened.

"Dad, why are you holding Gabe?"

"He needed his papa," the Sheriff hums as he bounces the baby from side to side.

Stiles glares at him. "I thought we agreed we weren't going to go running to him every time he cried. He has to learn how to comfort himself." He storms over closer to them.

"You might have agreed to that…"

"He's my and Derek's son! What we agree to goes for you, too." Stiles grabs Gabe and gently jerks him away from Noah.

"Stiles, just go back to the kitchen. I can take care of him."

"You never listen to anything I say! I'm telling you I don't want you here, and yet you are still here." Stiles turns around and puts Gabe back in his crib. He nestles him onto the woodland themed crib pad. "You're supposed to be napping, big guy." He softly rubs his cheek and watches as his eyes begin to close again.

The Sheriff understands that he has crossed a line in picking Gabe up again, but, when Stiles faces him, he asks a question out of curiosity.

"By 'I don't want you here,' do you mean here in this room with Gabe or here in this house?"

Stiles' eyes widen and he starts to dismiss his dad's crazy thought, but then he stops. His eyebrows furrow closer together as he frowns. He's not frowning at anyone or anything in particular. It's just a frown of sudden realization. He raises his hand in front of him and opens his mouth. Shaking his head, he drops his hand and speaks. "Both." His cheeks blush at the admission. "Both, I guess."

The Sheriff clenches his jaw and straightens.

Stiles keeps talking. "I'm doing good, dad. The therapy has helped. With time, I've been able to adjust to things. Derek and I are good again. For a while, I couldn't stand to look at him, but I'm finally attracted to him again. We… we had sex, and we were safe this time." Stiles sighs happily. "I feel happy again. I feel like I'm actually capable of living this life with Gabe and Derek. And, if things work out the way they are seeming to, a few years down the road, we might try for another one. And, I'd actually enjoy it and want it from the start this time. That's so crazy, right? But things are good."

The Sheriff turns and walks out of the nursery. Stiles follows as they begin to walk down the light tan hallway.

"You're still not listening to me, are you? Dad." His dad is a big grump.

"After all I did for you."

"Excuse me? After all you did for me…" Stiles stops in his tracks. He waits for his dad to stop too, but he doesn't. "That includes ignoring me and planning things without my knowledge and against my will, right?"

The Sheriff swirls around and stomps back to him. "I've apologized for that! We've gone to therapy and worked things out!"

"Yeah, I'm better with it, but I still remember it. It's never going to just be gone. And, yes, you have done things for me- things I appreciate, but… I'm growing up. Did grandma and grandpa stay with you and Mom after I was born? Or babcia and dziadek? They never would have invaded like you have. You need to move on."

"Move on?" He laughs an unamused laugh. "Move on from my son? You're all I have left."

"You didn't seem to act like that when I was pregnant."

The Sheriff turns and keeps walking. He continues into his bedroom and starts shoving his belongings into his suitcase.

"Dad. I'm an adult, but it's not like you're losing me. I'll always be here."

The Sheriff doesn't speak. Stiles stares at him for a moment, thinking.

"You know what? Okay. Act like a big baby. You know I'm right!" Stiles leaves, and returns moments later with a big cardboard box. He throws it onto the bed and is satisfied when it knows a few socks out of the suitcase. Socks that his dad just put there neatly arranged- bwahahaha. "Here's a box. Take all of your stuff so you can leave in one trip!"

The Sheriff drops his belongings to the floor. He stands in front of his gun safe for a long while. Grabbing a handgun or a rifle and going to the range would feel so good right now. But he can't, because they're closed. It's a national holiday after all. Darn you, 1776!

He goes and plops down on the couch just because he can. Claudia would be furious. Not about the couch, but because of the way he is acting. He puts his head in his hands. He knows Stiles is right. It's not his place to parent Gabe. And, he's not in the position to impose his will on Stiles anymore either. He's grown up. But, it's so hard to change. It's not easy to give things up so easily- empty nest and all of that.

One moment, he had his child… the next, his son was having a son of his own. When Stiles refused to grow up and handle it, the Sheriff did his best to prepare and provide for his grandson. His focus and his energy went to doing what was right for the little boy. Yes, that meant ignoring Stiles in the process, but it's all he knew to do. He wanted to respect Stiles' wishes while preparing a good life for Gabriel.

It's not like he purposefully went behind Stiles' back- he told him he didn't want anything to do with it. But, he could have tried harder to listen later on. He wasn't the one who planned the baby shower or the gender reveal, but he could have mentioned something about it just to make sure Stiles knew about it. He could have thought more about the good of his son at the moment instead of what Stiles' scared and previous wishes were.

Why did he have to be so headstrong? Why couldn't he let things go and let Stiles in? He has ruined everything.

At 7:00, his doorbell rings. He is surprised to see it is Stiles. His son holds up a hand letting him know to zip it and not speak.

"Every year on July 4th, we share a meal. Not everything is good between us. Part of that is my fault, but most of it is yours."

"Agreed."

Stiles nods. He shuffles his feet a bit. Not sure of how to really start. "So, the meal. Even though things are different this year, I still want to keep our tradition. I don't want Gabe to miss out. Or Derek either. Or… or me, either. I was singing and dancing around, and Derek was kind enough to stop me and tell me I was being an idiot."

"He told you to come and apologize?"

"No, he told me that with Gabe actually being left alone to sleep and you finally out of the house we could finally be less sneaky about our sexy sexy times, but that's neither here nor there. After we finished at 4:00, he agreed with MY idea to come and invite you back for supper."

"But, Stiles, its 7:00."

Stiles grins. "We had round two." He enjoys the way his dad squirms. "And round three, actually. But hey, I'm here. Inviting you for supper. A slightly late supper since he's just now out of the shower and putting the food on the grill, but supper all the same. And, I'm letting you know that all you're getting is a veggie burger not the real thing."

"Stiles," the Sheriff begins. Stiles begins to cut him off to tell him he can have a small beef patty… a SMALL one because of cholesterol and sodium intake, but Noah stops him. "Stiles, I'm sorry. You're right. About everything. But, I was too prideful and stuck in my ways to admit that before. I know you're grown up. And, I know you're finally happy. That makes me happy too. It's just a big change. And you're my kid. It doesn't seem like you should know about infant sleep patterns and comforting, but you do. It doesn't seem like you're old enough to live on your own, but you are. I'm sorry for…"

Stiles cuts him off with a hug. "I love you, Dad."

"I love you, too, son."

Stiles turns and heads back to his Jeep. "And, now we go back to my house and my family and eat my amazing dinner." He opens the door but then stops to talk some more. "And when Derek and I decide we are ready for you to go, we will kick you out for the second time today because we can do that. We are adults, and he owns that house, and we can do that. I'm happy and I'm an adult and I can have sex with my soon to be fiancé." Stiles gets into his Jeep and begins to back out of the driveway. He rolls his window down so his dad can hear him. "I have a son. He cries and poops a lot, but I love him and he loves me. I'm actually happy again!"

As the two men travel down the road to the Hale house, the Sheriff follows the blue Jeep. The vehicle isn't the same perfect baby blue it used to be. There are scrapes and dings. Rust and lots of touch ups. It has grown up. It has aged. Just like the man sitting inside.

He can see Stiles' wild motions and can hear his muffled voice when they come to stoplights. He doesn't know if he is still listing off things he is happy about or if he is singing "Independence Day" again, but it doesn't matter. He realizes he just is fine with either one.


End file.
